Philophobia
by VirgoLee
Summary: The fear of falling in Love. Of course, who has time for fear when one can't even find where their mind went? Or rather, what is doing outside of their head in the first place. He didn't really find this to be madness; he wasn't particularly angry; scared and sore yes, but not angry. But then a tall stranger with black coffee hair and a dark chocolate voice glides into the chaos.
1. Chapter 1

Everything, for once, was perfect. His book, _Potions: a History_ was better than he expected, the house-elves did not fuck-up his tea, and he was not summoned by the Dark Fuck-head (Lord).

Truly, the warm feeling surrounding the room was absolutely delicious, and the fact that he still had another blissful week of alone time made him shiver with delight, oh yes, this feeling of alone was much better than the one he was used too; truly alone.

He shook himself at this. No. Absolutely, and irrefutably **no.** He will not have this rare, beautiful moment of silence be ruined by the noisy chaos of his filthy mind. No. For now, he has decided, no matter who calls, he will be comfortably numb; he or she will have to wait, as he allowed himself to sink into the blissful peace of the occasional brainless moment…

15 whole minutes had passed, and the yummy warm feeling hadn't been shaken. Yes indeed, this moment was comparable to a post-sex cuddle; euphoric, silent, sweet, rare, and not at all unwelcomed.

At least until whoever he or she was woke up the next morning only to find out the introverted, sexually awkward person they had been sleeping with was even more uhm… _awkward_ (one of the many polite words people use when they look at him and mean that he is ugly, or awful) to look at.

He was just about to scold himself for his obvious self- loathing when the fire place, or rather the flames, began speaking.

"Severus my boy, I'm afraid you're needed." The urgency of the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry was all too evident.

"So much for enjoying my-self, or at least my book." Severus voice dripped with bitterness only found in coffee a shade lighter than his own hair.

* * *

"There seems to be a bit of a, slight error as one could say, regarding my judgment for Harry Potter, or rather, where he is staying at the current moment."

"Fascinating." Was all Severus uttered, sarcasm gushing from his lips.

"I need you to go and fetch him, and, if it is not too much trouble, I would like you to house the boy for the rest of the summer.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Severus, please, he needs someone who understands what he is going through."

"Albus, I hardly think I could understand what first world, bitchy problems a spoiled brat like Potter has, and, need I remind you of my ever constricted funds, or more accurately, lack thereof? And need I remind you that he could stay at the burrow, Mr. Weasel and Mrs. Know-it all will be glad to bow down an-" Severus' rant was cut off by a hand on his shoulder. Albus was smiling at him in such a sad way.

"Severus." That was all he said. He didn't need to say anything else. Severus could hear the begging, almost whining tone in the Head-master's voice.

* * *

"Better be damn important boy…better things to do than check up on him… all because he didn't write a damn answer back to his friends… probably absolutely fine…" Severus was mumbling to himself the entire walk down the road to the Dursley home.

He couldn't believe this, what was going on that was sooo absolutely terrible that the boy was made to be housed (more like he was made to house the boy) in the "Greasy Dungeon Bat" manor?

* * *

"I'm sorry Vernon! Just stop! I'm sorry!"

Whack! Smack!

Wait…there's another sound…

Zip. Click. A low, filthy chuckle.

 _What, no! NO! This can't be happening!_

"Listen boy, I've tried to be nice-"

 _Bull-shit!_

"-I've been patient-"

There are hands grabbing at the hem of his shirt.

 _Somebody, ANYBODY help me!_

"-But sometimes in life-"

 _Get your filthy hands off me!_

"-The only way to teach a…lesson …to a _filthy, little freak_ like you-"

"I'm sorry, please, don't do this to me! Don't! Stop it!"

 _Fat, wrinkly hand run up and down his body. Vernon's older body easily pins his nephew's smaller one down._

"Is to fuck it so hard up your little ass it comes out of that pretty little mouth of yours. Of course, you'll have to clean this mess you'll make later."

 _No! The_ _ **Pain!**_ _He feels as though he's being ripped in half! Why? Why him? Oh it hurts! Why did he have to suffer again? Jesus Christ he won't be able to walk! Did this mean he was weak? No he…_

 _What is this voice inside of him?_

 _It sounds an awful lot like himself._

Yes. He is weak.

He is worthless.

His uncle slaps his ass and says pathetic.

Wow.

Even when he's being raped he's a disappointment. Wait.

Why are there voices inside of him?

It feels like hands are trying to reach out of his body and take the light in the room.

After-all. He has no light of his own anymore.

Wait, there it is!

But it's a sad, little light…why?

He liked pretty lights.

But his light wasn't pretty.

That made him sad.

Oh wow! Look at all of the red on the floor!

Red is such a pretty color… maybe…

That's it!

Paint a pretty picture! If he doesn't have prettiness or light, he could just make some!

And how convenient; Uncle Vernon left him a little paint to start with.

He's so nice.

* * *

"Seriously, could've been anyone else!" Severus continued to bitch all the way up to the front door.

* * *

"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

How I wonder what you are" Harry began to sing the pretty little lullaby as he painted

* * *

A swift rapping of his knuckles on the door was enough to get the attention of the rapist in the living room.

* * *

"Up above the world so high,

Like a diamond in the sky-"

* * *

"How can I hel-"The rapist was cut off by a hand held up by one of those freaks from his nephew's 'realm',

"I am here for Harry Potter. It has come to the attention of the headmaster that he is not being treated…correctly… under your care. It is my duty to assess the situation and deal as I see fit. In other words, don't try anything, muggle." Severus sneered out the last bit, holding up his wand for good measure.

Before the rapist could respond, they both heard it.

* * *

"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star

How I wonder what you are." Harry finished, giggling, clapping and bowing to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Severus was by no means a sympathetic man. He was abused beyond repair during his childhood by his own father. His mother had committed suicide right in front of him just days before he left for Hogwarts. He got the shit beat out of him at school, the one place, in his child-hood naivety, which he thought he could escape. Lily was one bright side, but he quickly fell out of favor in her eyes when pretty boy James Potter swept her away. She, after that, turned a blind eye to their bullying; even after being hurt by Potter multiple times! When he was recruited as a Death-Easter, he thought he finally found his place in the world. Revenge on Potter, being surrounded by like-minded people, and learning more and more about the dark arts that fascinated him; what could be better?

Literally anything else would have been better.

The love of his childhood was murdered by none other than the man who mentored him in the dark arts that killed her.

He was still an outcast; even amongst other angsty introverted dark-art enthusiasts.

And the "Dark, forbidden art form of magic at its purest" was really just enhanced versions of stuff he already knew being demonstrated by the poster-boy pure-blood Lucius Malfoy; he made up better shit in his 4th year!

Needless to say, he found it very hard to sympathize with anyone when it came to their situation.

But then he heard the singing.

"The boy's mad. And, you are breaking and entering sir! Leave at once!"

Severus simply stared at the man with an expression that asked 'Are you quite finished?'

 _Swish and Flick! Flick then whip! Up and over! Speak your spell and hope with the luck of a 4-leaf clover!_

It was a truly silly rhyme taught by none other than Professor Flitwick to help his advanced 5th year Charms class learn how to combine charms. Harmless enough in class where point deduction and detention were looming over the students like a nasty after taste. But, children like Severus always had a knack for remembering particularly nasty charms at just the right time and he happened to remember how to combine them.

So when Vernon Reginald Dursley found himself levitating upside down with purple oozing zits popping of their own accord on his backside; Severus just shrugged and went up stairs.

The singing had begun again. He hadn't remembered the boy being particularly musically inclined…and what is that god awful smell?!

"Potter? Potter why on Earth are you singing-Holy shit!" Severus exclaimed

Harry turned around and was surprised to see his Professor here, unless….

Of course!

He had come to see Harry's pretty picture!

"Hello Professor. Look! I now have a pretty sun in my cousin's second bedroom!" Harry's 16 year old voice was that of a giddy child's.

"Har-Potter, you are covered in- I mean why-Who did this? I demand to know!" Severus stammered and stuttered. What the Hell was going on here? Did Albus know it was this bad? Where did the blood come from? He was going to live with him after _this_ happened?

"My sweet uncle Vernon, of course! I mean, he was mad earlier, but I suppose he got over it. He probably wants me to make him happy by painting a pretty picture on the wall for him…why else would he leave the paint, silly?" Harry rambled on.

"Potter you mus-"

Harry stopped smearing his own blood on the wall and turned around to look at Snape. His eyes widened in a sort horrified realization.

"You don't like it do you?" Harry's voice was now quiet

"Potter, it's made from you own blood! Come here I need you to-"

"I KNEW YOU DIDN'T LIKE IT! IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT THAT MEANS VERNON WILL HATE IT! AND IF HE HATES IT THAT MEANS HE'LL HURT ME AGAIN!" Harry screamed bloody murder.

He threw his picture of his mother and father to the floor and began pounding his head against the wall, similarly to a house elf. Severus ran towards the boy, and, realizing how malnourished he was, was able to pin his arms to the side.

"No! Vernon please no, not again!"

"Harry, just listen to the sound of my voice, I'm not your uncle, please calm down, I'm here to take you away from him, do you understand." Severus soothed Harry by looking him in the eyes and lessening his grip on the boy's wrist, only to look and find bruises, though not made by him.

"Just wanted it to be pretty for my Uncle, is that so much to ask for? He hurt me because he was upset, so if he's not upset, he won't hurt me….when he doesn't hurt me the voices begin to fade away….Don't like the voices…High and cruel laughter….Like a cross between my nightmares, my uncle, and Voldem-" Harry at that point was curled up into a small ball holding his head in his hands.

Severus gathered up the boy in his arms and just walked slowly and meticulously out of the room and down the stairs, careful as to not to jostle the boy.

This filthy muggle will pay for the crimes against his one true love's son, oh yes, without a doubt. But first he needs to know for how long this has been going on and he also needs to treat the boy.

No matter what Severus had said earlier, one fact had been made clear; Harry Potter was not the Harry Potter he thought he was. He was not his father reincarnated to make his life Hell, or worse, Lily reincarnated into a young boy's body with her eyes to torture him.

No. This boy was, is, and will continue to be _Harry_ Potter, not Lily Evans or James Potter. For better or for worse, the boy is who he is, and he has been for a while now.

Severus just hoped he hadn't lost himself with the loss of his innocence.


End file.
